


The Sound of Stars

by SecretMaker



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, art school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretMaker/pseuds/SecretMaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi asks Yamaguchi for help in one of her classes</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Stars

“Yamaguchi-kun, I need your help.” Tadashi should have known then that he was screwed. But when he turned at the sound of that sweet, high voice and looked down at that sweet, round face, he didn’t hesitate before agreeing to whatever Yachi wanted.  
  
“What’s wrong, Yachi-san?” he asked. She bit her lip as though trying to hold back before exploding into speech all at once.  
  
“We have this assignment in one of my classes to turn in a project done in an entirely different medium than our normal work and present it as an advertisement for something, and I know I want to paint, but I need a subject, and you’re the only person I can come to with this and I’m so sorry don’t worry about it it’s not important I’ll just-”  
  
“Okay.” She stopped in her tracks at the word, staring up at him with those (big, round, beautiful) eyes.  
  
“R-really?” she squeaked. Tadashi nodded.  
  
“Yeah, what do you need me to do?” Yachi flushed lightly, looking down at their feet.  
  
“I need a model,” she said. “I want to paint you.” Tadashi blinked at that, shocked.   
  
“You want me to model for you?” he asked. She nodded fervently. “O-okay, if you’re sure.”  
  
“I am,” she said. “Do you think you could meet me outside the art building at five?” Tadashi nodded, trying not to blush at the way her face lit up. “Thank you so much!” she shouted as she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers.  
  
“Anything for you, Yachi-san,” he mumbled. She gave him one last sun-bright smile and a squeeze of his fingers before turning on her heel and darting off across the quad. “Anything,” he whispered as he watched her go.  
  
-  
  
For the most part, modeling for Yachi went exactly as expected. She sat him down in one of the studio rooms and fiddled with the lights. When everything was set up the way she wanted it, she tugged him over by the sleeve and had him sit on the floor, arranging his limbs one by one. He followed each of her instructions carefully, and after a few minutes she stepped back to survey their work.  
  
"Okay, Yamaguchi-kun, just a few props and then we can get started," she said, reaching behind her to grab a thick envelope from the stool. She thumbed it open and promptly upended it.  
  
Polaroid pictures tumbled out, landing in a scattered heap all around Tadashi. Yachi fussed with the arrangement with her lip caught between her teeth while Tadashi tried to catch a glimpse of what they all were.  
  
"Yachi-san," he said slowly, "are these my photos?" She nodded absently.  
  
"They're from that project we did in intro to design our first year," she said. "I don't know why I even still have them, but I just needed the idea of the shape for this. What's on them doesn't really matter." She scooped on up and slipped it into his hands, humming softly. "Okay, I think I'm done. Ready to get started?"  
  
"As I'll ever be," he answered. She smiled again and darted over to her easel.   
  
Tadashi had only modeled once or twice before, for his own classes or for one of Tsukishima's figure drawings. Listening to the rasp of Yachi's pencil on her canvas, he decided that this was much more relaxing than any other time. Yachi hummed while she worked, but didn't make conversation except to offer minute corrections to his posture or expression. Tadashi found himself drifting as she worked.  
  
The photo Yachi had slipped into his hand was a selfie of the two of them. He had to remind himself not to smile as he thought of the day they had taken it, of the goofy faces and the smear of strawberry jam on her cheek. She had worn her hair entirely up that day, something she only ever did when she was working on something for school.  
  
It was up now, a few strands escaping from the ponytail to curl around her neck. She had put the pencil away and pulled out a paintbrush at some point and was standing with her chin cupped in her hand.  
  
"Yachi-san," he said, trying not to move his lips. "You're getting paint on your face." She squeaked and pulled the brush away and Tadashi bit the inside of his cheek.  
  
The splotch of color made her look even cuter.  
  
"I think we're done for now, Yamaguchi-kun," she said.   
  
"Really?" he asked, letting his shoulders relax and turning to look at her fully. "You're finished already?" She waved her hands frantically in front of her.  
  
"Oh, no, not by a long shot!" she cried. "But I've got everything I need you to be here for. You only needed to sit still while I got the sketch and the basic values down. I can add in the details later." He smiled and pulled himself to his feet.  
  
"Can I see it?" he asked. She turned an even brighter shade of red.  
  
"I would prefer to keep it a surprise," she murmured. "But if you want, I can bring it by when it's done." He smiled and reached out to wipe the paint away from her cheek with his thumb.  
  
"I'd like that," he said.  
  
-  
  
It was three weeks later that she dragged him back into the building with a wide smile on her face.  
  
"Yacchan, what's going on?" he laughed as he stumbled along behind her.  
  
"My professor hung the painting up in the gallery," she said breathlessly. "I wanted you to come see it right away!" As she said that they skidded to a halt right outside the student gallery.  
  
A familiar quiet settled over them as they stepped inside. Tadashi glanced around at the various pieces on display, not really interested in any of them until Yachi stopped in front of one. He looked up and his heart stopped.  
  
It was him, but not like he had ever seen himself before. Yachi had made him out to be some sort of angel, a figure made of stars covered in flawless skin. Even his freckles and acne scars seemed beautiful under her brushstrokes. He barely had time to glance at it before he was scooping her up in his arms and pressing their lips together.  
  
He stumbled back, blushing and stammering.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.  
  
"For what?" she asked, her brow furrowed. He bit his lip and leaned in to whisper in her ear.  
  
"You're not supposed to touch the masterpieces," he said. She laughed, and Tadashi thought that if stars made a sound, it would be something like that.


End file.
